The Quill's Notebook
Hello readers!
This story is a one-shot of HHr. I don't want to spoil it, but when you read it, you will probably guess the ending! Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading!
I present: Unrequieted Love
Chapter One: Unrequieted Love
"Hermione; can I talk to you for a minute?" She turned around and smiled at him curiously. They had been walking back from Transfiguration and had just entered the common room.
"Sure Harry. Do you even need to ask?" He laughed slightly and fidgeted anxiously. "Are you ok, Harry?" He sighed and gently pulled her to one side, sitting down on the couch by the fire.
"Yeah…yeah I'm fine…" He replied quietly "…just a bit nervous." She smiled and held his hand gently.
"You don't need to be nervous around me, Harry." She said softly. He smiled and took a deep breath.
"Ok. Well, I was thinking…about those articles in the Prophet…" Hermione's eyes darkened slightly when thinking about Skeeter "…the ones about you and me…being…together." She nodded. He took another deep breath. "I started to think about why I had such a problem about them. And I realised…that I didn't." Her eyebrows shot up. "I mean, it annoyed me that she was lying about us, but the idea of us being…together, didn't, do you understand?" She shook her head uncertainly.
"I'm not sure I do." He nodded and raked his hand through his hair.
"Well…it's just…the idea of you and me being…together, didn't make me feel weird. It felt…right, you know what I mean?" Her eyes widened in realisation.
"Harry…" She began uncertainly. He interrupted her by putting his hand on hers.
"Please, let me finish." She nodded. "The more I thought about it, the more it made sense." He paused and took a tremendously deep breath. "I really like you, Hermione." She didn't say anything. "I realised that all the years we've been friends, best friends, I might add, that I've grown to care for you more and more than a friend should." He let out the breath he had been holding. "I really like you Hermione…and I was wondering…if maybe…you felt the same?" Hermione took a rattled breath.
"Harry…I…I'm flattered…but I think I see you more as…a brother." His posture sank slightly and the sparkle in his eyes faded.
"Oh." She could hear the emptiness in his voice. He gave her a small smile. "Well, at least I got that out of the way. It won't be a problem anymore Hermione, I promise." He gave her hand a squeeze and stood up. She panicked slightly and held onto his hand.
"Harry wait…" She began, before Harry gently extricated his hand.
"Please Hermione…I just…need some time. Ok?" She nodded hesitantly and watched as Harry walked out of the common room.
Despite how civil and understanding Harry had been, she felt utterly rotten.
The next day, Hermione waited in the common room for Harry to come downstairs for breakfast. She had been thinking about their conversation continuously and wanted to try and make it right with Harry. Hearing footsteps from the boy's dormitory, she turned around and stifled a gasp.
Harry looked awful. He had bags under his eyes, his eyes lacked their usual sparkle and lustre, and his hair was dull and extremely mussed…more so than usual. As he saw Hermione, he straightened his posture and smiled tiredly.
"So, ready to go to breakfast Hermione?" He asked. She blinked slightly in shock.
"Harry…are you ok?" She asked tentatively. She was horrified that this may have been her doing. He gave her a small smile in reply.
"I'm fine Hermione. You don't have to worry about me." She nodded uncertainly before heading down to breakfast.
As they entered the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table, Ron's usual lack of tact made a return performance.
"Harry, mate, you look awful." He gave his friend a weak laugh.
"Thanks Ron, you look dashing yourself mate." His voice dripping with sarcasm.
As they began to eat, Hermione glanced at her friend every so often, noticing that he was eating very little and was pushing his food around the plate. Her heart broke as she realised that she might be the cause of his appearance and behaviour. She resolved to speak to him about it. Before she could think any more, the annoying visage of Draco Malfoy came into view.
"Hey Potter," He began with a sneer, "have you seen these badges?" Pinned to his chest was a large, circular badge with a sentence flashing up.
'Support Cedric Diggory;
The REAL Hogwarts' Champion'
Then, with a bright flash, the words changed.
'Potter STINKS'
Clearly, Malfoy and the other Slytherins found them vastly amusing, whereas Harry took one look, sighed and gave him a small smile.
"They're brilliant Malfoy. Great spell casting too. I'm sure you'll get a great mark in Charms." He turned back to his breakfast.
The Great Hall, which had paused to watch Harry's reaction to the badges, became silent. Draco searched his face, waiting for some sort of rebuttal. There was none. His smirk faded and he took in the unkempt appearance of the Gryffindor. Unsurely, he took a step back.
"Thanks…Potter." He said, slightly confused to his lack of reaction.
Turning around, he headed back to the Slytherin table and sat down. The hall was still quiet. Finally breaking the silence, George and Fred spoke quietly.
"Harry; are you…" Fred began.
"…feeling ok?" George finished. He gave them a weak smile.
"I'm fine guys." With that, he stood up and left the hall.
Hermione was panicking: had she caused this reaction? Yesterday, Harry had been fine, albeit a little angry for no one believing that he didn't enter the tournament. Now, it was like he simply didn't care. She decided to speak to him before bed that night.
Later that day, sitting by the fire where he had told her his feelings, Hermione waited for Harry to enter the common room. She was determined, that if she had caused him to react in this manner, that she would try to help him and speak to him.
After about ten minutes of waiting, Harry came through the portrait hole and shuffled toward the stairs up to the boy's dormitory. Before he could get far, she stood up and faced him.
"Harry?" He turned around and saw her standing by the fire. He smiled slightly.
"Hey there Hermione. Why aren't you in bed? It's past curfew." She walked over to him and took his hand, rubbing it gently.
"Harry, please, I need to talk to you." She pleaded. He sighed and allowed himself to be led to the couch. She sat for a moment in silence.
"What is it Hermione?" He asked tiredly. She bit her lip before speaking.
"I need to know." He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Did…did I cause you to act like this?" He sighed and raked a hand through his hair.
"No Hermione, you…" She interrupted before he could continue.
"Please don't lie to me Harry. You should know by now that lying to me doesn't work." He gave her a smile and chuckled humourlessly.
"Trust me. I'm fine. Just…feeling a bit under the weather." He squeezed her hand and kissed her softly on her forehead. "Go to bed Hermione. I'll be fine in a few days." With that, he stood up and walked up to the boy's dormitory without looking back.
She sat for a moment, unsure what to do, before taking his advice and going to bed. Hermione knew he was lying to her. She had a feeling it was only going to get worse.
Over the coming weeks, Harry gradually deteriorated. He looked unbelievably tired, like he had been suffering from insomnia; his hair was skewed everywhere, more so than customary; his posture was slumped and small; he ate very little, his stomach growling for lack of food; and his body became quite weak, causing him to stumble every so often.
Hermione had watched him carefully, beside herself with worry, unable to convince Harry to go to the hospital wing or speak to her about his problems. All he would ever do is give her a small smile and tell her not to worry, which in turn worried her more.
His friends became more aware of the change as well, gathering together like a muggle intervention, trying to convince him to speak to someone. He refused. He was never angry, he never shouted, he spoke calmly and politely, with that annoying smile on his face.
Not only were his fellow Gryffindors worrying, the other students noticed the change as well. While none of them spoke to him directly, they regarded him with pity and sympathy, leaving him well alone. Even Malfoy stopped wearing his badge, although that was more because he didn't get a reaction from Harry.
With the second task fast approaching, she realised he wouldn't do well if he continued the way he was. Hermione to do something she had sworn she would never do again after third year: speak to a teacher behind Harry's back.
Early one morning, Hermione walked up to Professor McGonagall's office and knocked on the door, looking around to make sure no one saw. A voice replied from within.
"Enter." Pushing open the door carefully, she stepped in, smiling at her favourite teacher, closing the door behind her. "Good morning Ms Granger."
"Good morning Professor." She paused nervously. "I was wondering if I could speak with you." The old witch smiled and gestured to a seat.
"Certainly." Hermione walked over and sat down. "What can I do for you?" She sighed.
"I'm worried about Harry." She began tentatively. "He's…he's not been well recently and he refuses to speak to anyone about it." McGonagall frowned.
"Have you not spoken to him about this?" She nodded.
"Several times. But he just smiles at me and tells me not to worry." The aged teacher nodded. "There's more." Hermione bit her lip. "I think I might have caused it." McGonagall's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"How so, Ms Granger?" She proceeded to explain what had happened recently, including Harry's admission of feelings. McGonagall sat back in her seat as Hermione finished.
"I see." She pursed her lips. "I wish I could tell you that you aren't to blame, but I cannot. It has been known for a person's magic to manifest unresolved emotions into physical symptoms." She looked distraught. "Do not blame yourself, Ms Granger. Lying about your feelings is infinitely worse than simply revealing them to a person." She leant forward and looked intently at her. "But, before I act, are you certain his feelings are not returned?" Hermione looked thoughtful.
Searching through her mind, she sifted through her various memories about Harry and took in her feelings at the time. As she looked, the answers shocked her. She and Harry had a closeness that went past the bonds of friendship. It was something that she didn't share with anyone else. They knew each other extremely well, fitting together like to pieces of a puzzle.
Soon, the answer became apparent: she had feelings for Harry. With the realisation, she dropped her head into her hands and cried.
"Oh merlin…what have I done?" She whispered between sobs. Minerva looked down on her with a sad smile and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Do not despair. Understanding one's feelings can be a difficult process. You need to step away from reality and look deep inside yourself." Hermione sniffed slightly. "I will speak to Harry during breakfast and ask him to go to the hospital wing. After that, you will need to speak with him." She nodded in understanding.
Breakfast that morning was a quiet affair. There were whispers blowing around the hall like a gentle breeze, almost all of them about Harry. His gradual breakdown had been noticed by all, including the staff after Minerva had spoken to them about it.
As Harry entered the Great Hall, he shot a small smile to a worried Hermione and took a seat next to her. Helping himself to a small amount of breakfast, he ate slowly and continued to push his food around the plate. Hermione, turning to glance at Professor McGonagall, received a small nod. The aged professor came down from the staff table and approached Harry.
"Mr Potter; it has been brought to my attention that you are unwell, but are not seeking help from Madam Pomfrey." Harry sighed and turned around.
"I'm perfectly fine Professor, although I thank you for your concern." He stifled a cough, which only made her frown deeper.
"You do not look 'perfectly fine' to me Mr Potter. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to come with me to the hospital wing." He sighed and closed his eyes, before nodding.
"Very well." He replied.
He stood up from the bench and walked toward the doors, not sparing a glance for anyone. Just as he was about to cross the threshold, his stumbled slightly and fell to his knees. A number of people rushed to help but he turned around and snarled.
"I'M FINE!" Everyone paused instantly. Harry, seeing they had stopped, pulled himself to his feet and took a deep breath. "Thank you, but I do not need assistance." With that, he turned and left, his robes billowing like a certain potion's master.
The Great Hall was silent. After a moment, Professor McGonagall followed the Gryffindor out of the door. As she caught up, she saw him clutching the bannister to the stairs tightly, trying not to fall backwards. Rushing forward, she supported him and helped him stand. He turned around and smiled slightly at the teacher.
"Thank you, but I…I don't need help Professor." He said weakly. Clutching the bannister like a lifeline, he pulled himself up the stairs to the second floor. Minerva shook her head and sighed.
"Yes you do." She replied quietly before following the Gryffindor to the hospital wing.
Poppy Pomfrey sat quietly in her office, looking through some notes she had written many years previously. The only sound that could be heard was the soft ticking of the clock on her wall. As she sat there, she heard the tell-tale thud as the Infirmary door opened. Getting up, she came out of her office to see who needed her.
"Mr Potter; you always seem to end up in here at some point." She said with a sigh.
As soon as she saw him, she began to perform a visual examination, to see if there were any physical issues. That inspection immediately came up with a resounding 'yes'. He looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes showing prominently, his face was extremely pale, his eyes were bloodshot, his posture slumped, and he appeared to be holding onto the door for support.
Just as she was about to continue speaking, Minerva walked into the room and stood just to Harry's side. Poppy smiled at her, which she returned, before turning to the matter at hand.
"Mr Potter here," Minerva began, "has been…unwell for the past few weeks. He has not, however, attempted to seek medical help in that time." Poppy looked shocked and turned to him.
"And why not, Mr Potter?" He tried to hide a painful sounding cough but failed miserably.
"Because I am perfectly fine." He replied defiantly. "There is nothing…" Before he could finish, his legs gave way, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell to the floor.
Casting a spell before he could hit his head, she levitated his body onto one of the vacant beds. Poppy began to cast diagnostic spells while muttering in annoyance.
"Foolish boy. Why did he not seek help? He is clearly not fine…" Minerva came over and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Poppy, we believe that Mr Potter is suffering from some…unresolved emotions, which are manifesting in his magic." She continued to diagnose him.
"That is no excuse for not coming to be treated…" Minerva squeezed her shoulder.
"Love, Poppy." She replied. Poppy span around and looked at her incredulously, before her eyes softened. "He was trying to deal with it on his own." She sighed.
"Still…" She brushed her forehead gently. "…do we know who the target of his unrequited emotions is?" Minerva nodded.
"Hermione Granger." Poppy nodded. "She was the one who reported this to me." Poppy bustled into her office, before returning with a potion.
"Did you ask her whether the feelings were returned?" Poppy asked softly, while feeding an unconscious Harry the potion.
"I did. And they are. It took her a while to sift through her mind, but she got there." Poppy nodded and put her hands on her hips.
"Well, Minerva, could you tell her to come to the hospital wing after lunch? Mr Potter will be awake by then." She nodded.
"Very well. I'll see you later on today, Poppy."
At lunch time that day, Hermione tentatively opened the door into the hospital wing, immediately noticing the privacy curtain around someone's bed. She had a strong feeling it was Harry's. After a moment, Madam Pomfrey came out of her office and smiled softly at her.
"Good afternoon Ms Granger." She said quietly. Hermione smiled.
"Hello Madam Pomfrey." She turned her eyes to the concealed bed. "Is he ok?" The nurse sighed.
"No, he is not. His magic is causing him to feel like this. I can only do so much. If he doesn't resolve his problems, his body will continue to deteriorate." Hermione gasped.
"W-will he…die?" She whispered. Pomfrey sighed.
"It is…a possibility." Tears began to pour down her face.
"Can I see him?" The nurse smiled.
"Yes, you may." With a flick of her wand, she screen was vanished, revealing a sleeping Harry.
His magic, fighting with the potions Madam Pomfrey was giving him, made him look even worse than he had previously. His face was covered with sheen of cold sweat; his face was contorted in a look of intense discomfort; the bags were still present beneath his eyes; and his breathing was ragged and sounded painful.
With a quick 'Ennervate', Harry's eyes shot open and he coughed violently. Hermione's heart broke as she watched him like this, knowing it was her that had caused it. He looked around groggily, before his eyes settled on Hermione. They widened slightly, before he turned away, closing them as he did.
"Please go away Hermione." He asked softly.
Pomfrey glanced at Hermione before heading back into her office, closing the door with a click. She moved to the chair by his bed and placed a hand on his arm. It was cold; very cold. Her heart tore apart inside as she watched him.
"Harry?" She whispered. He didn't move. "Please Harry." She pleaded. With a sigh, he turned his face toward her and met her eyes.
"Hello Hermione." He said quietly. He could see the pain on her face. "What can I do for you?" She sniffed slightly and smiled weakly.
"I came to speak with you." He nodded. "Harry…I…I was wrong." He didn't move. "I…I was just so surprised by what you said. I wasn't sure. I convinced myself for so long, that you were only my friend, I…I panicked." Tears poured down her face. "I didn't think. But, seeing you like this, because of me, I started to think properly, look into how I truly feel." She put her hand on his cheek. "I have feelings for you too." She whispered. A tear streaked down his face, before he turned away.
"You're just saying that. You think by saying what I want to hear I'll just get better." He turned back to face her. "Well I won't. I refuse. I refuse to listen to you lie to me." She panicked. He didn't believe the truth.
"Harry, please believe me, I'm not lying to you! I've never lied to you!" She cried. His emotionless mask began to crack.
"What about when I told you my feelings? What was that? Was that not a lie?! 'I see you more as a brother', was that not a lie?!" He yelled, before descending into a coughing fit. She tried to help him but he slapped her hand away. "I don't need help! I can get through this without the other students, without the staff, without Ron and without you." He tried to lift himself out of the bed, but was held there by Hermione. In his weakened state, he could not push her off. "Let me go." He growled.
"No. I won't." She replied firmly. "You are going to listen to me, dammit!" Harry blinked. He had never heard her swear before. She released her hold on him and instead rubbed his arm softly, trying to reassure him.
"I didn't lie. I didn't know how I felt. You just…sprung it on me and I didn't know how to feel. My mind panicked and I replied. I didn't know you felt like that!" She cried. "What did you expect me to say?!" Tears poured down his face.
"'Give me some time'." He answered. "I thought you'd want to think about it. But…when you threw out that reply straight away…I thought I'd made a mistake." She blinked at him. Why hadn't she asked to think about it?
"I…I'm sorry Harry. I panicked. I had no idea and my mind panicked." She began to cry into her hands. After a moment, a hand brushed against her hair softly. She looked up and saw him smiling.
"Please don't cry. I hate to see you cry." He cupped her cheek softly and she leant into his hand. "I…I tried to get over it. I tried to accept it, but I couldn't. My mind wouldn't let me. Merlin knows I tried, but I just couldn't." She held his hand and smiled.
"Don't worry. Now you won't have to." With that comment, she leant forwards and kissed him softly, their hands getting caught in the other's hair. As they broke apart, he held her cheek and cried softly.
"I'm sorry Hermio…" She interrupted him with a finger on his lips.
"Don't apologise." She said softly.
With a nod and a smile, he sat up and pulled her into a hug. As they embraced, Madam Pomfrey watched them with a soft smile on her face. They had resolved their emotions, with a happy outcome.
There we are!
A bit of fluff for those who like fluff! I started writing this when I was thinking about the affects magic could have on the body. If magic is emotion based, then it stands to reason that if you repress emotions, then it should affect your body. That was what this story was about!
I hope you enjoyed!
This is the Quill, signing off!